Scream Silently
by livelyfingered
Summary: "It's not much, but it's enough to remind him that she's still there, waiting for him." / When Ally becomes deaf, Austin doesn't know what to do. AustinAlly. Oneshot.


_**Scream Silently**_

"It's not much, but it's enough to remind him that she's still there, waiting for him." / When Ally becomes deaf, Austin doesn't know what to do. AustinAlly. Oneshot.

**A/N: This marks the beginning of my journey into the angst genre. This particular oneshot serves as a response to my good friend ****Isabelle****, who has challenged me to temporarily step out of my comfort zone, which is fluff. (By the way, if you're looking for some Auslly fluff, I have some other stories you might be interested in: not to sound mercenary or anything, but a writer's got to plug her own writing, right?) Thank you to ****Noah****, who also encouraged this piece of non-fluff. Moreover, if ****Sarah**** is reading this – you're great, too.**

**Last but definitely not least, **a cold day in december **(****Sophie****) is an unbelievably wonderful writer and deserves yet another shout-out, because she's just that awe-inspiring.**

**:::**

Warnings: some angst, biological distress, conflicting internal emotions

Remarks: eventual Auslly, albeit in a potentially _different_ way

**:::**

"_She's been asking for you, Austin_."

He forces numb fingers through his hair and manages to swallow, but the passage of saliva down his agonizingly dry throat serves only as a reminder of the chaos fermenting inside. He's supposedly her best friend, and yet somehow he can't seem to gather the courage to visit her. Maybe it's because she's in the hospital, and his going would do more harm than good.

Or maybe it's because he's too scared of what he'll see.

"_Please just come visit her, Austin. She isn't listening to us._"

Deep down, he knows he'd do anything for this girl, but life isn't perfect and you can't always keep promises. Sometimes you're just emotionally incapable of seeing others in pain, because if they're in pain, you're in pain – and if you're in pain, you aren't fundamentally happy. It all boils down to selfish motivations, and he recognizes that he's being selfish.

But he's being selfish anyway when he finally succumbs to that stupid little thing called _conscience_. There really is no way out, so naturally there won't be success in finding one. He might as well take the long road, just because it's the shorter one for her.

:::

They haven't told him, but he can guess. Guessing – that's one thing he's always been good at. It's essentially a game of chance, of luck. If only he could have given her some.

She's deaf. "Acquired sensorineural hearing loss," says the nurse solemnly, and he doesn't bother to ask for the details. _She isn't listening to us_, Trish had said. Well, it's not like she _can_. He realizes that his friends have been throwing gentle hints all this time because they don't want to break him as well.

He stares dully down at the greeting she's scrawled onto hospital clipboard paper. It's not much, but it's enough to remind him that she's still there, waiting for him.

_Hi._

He glances back up at her. She's propped up delicately against the pillows – but there's nothing different about her except her ears, so he honestly doesn't think the display of fragility is necessary. Frankly, she has never looked healthier. But still, she's waiting for him, so he starts writing a response.

_Hi, Ally_.

For a fleeting moment he wonders if this interchange will ever go beyond pleasantries. She's scribbling furiously, though, so the fate of the written conversation might be salvaged.

She scrapes out _I missed you _and it bleeds jaggedly through to the next page.

He doesn't write anything. Instead, he turns his eyes to meet hers. He screams silently and, from his eyes, she understands everything he's never said. _I loved you _flashes through to her, and she believes him. _I loved you, but I can't love you anymore_. He knows he's being selfish again – always selfish, selfish, selfish – but he can't spend his life pining away for someone who'll never be able to hear his love.

_I can't love you_.

It's too sudden. She can't respond rationally, so she pushes the clipboard towards him and closes her eyes. If she can't hear him apologize, she won't see him try to.

:::

He pays her another visit because he's a good friend.

He brings Beethoven, because her ears might be able to register certain vibrations, and he figures that Beethoven has the widest range of frequencies. But he also brings Beethoven because he wants her to have a role model she can actually identify with.

Beethoven went deaf, too.

She smiles weakly, because not all has been forgiven. He ignores the nurse's worried expression and places the stereo on the lampstand.

_Hi_, he writes. _This is Beethoven, and this is for you_.

She can detect traces – little hums and beats that dance with the heart in her chest – but it's not the same. It's definitely not the same, and she doesn't try to suppress the tears. _Go away_, she writes, and out of self-pity and desperateness she throws the notepad at him.

"Go away," she finally says, and it comes out in a scratchy monotone because she can't hear herself. He backs away, unsure of himself, and he trips towards the door agitatedly. "I think you'd better leave her alone for a while," whispers the nurse, and he sprints down the hallway, away from the loss, away from the pain, away from everything.

He doesn't visit again. He's too scared of what she'll say.

:::

He expects to see her father bustling around Sonic Boom.

Instead, he sees her. She's talking to a customer, and he almost smiles at the ghosts of memories flooding his brain. But then he realizes that she's talking in the same way that she did before, and she's nodding in response to a customer's question – and it seems so _real_ and _perfect_ and almost _normal_ again.

"Hey," he starts, and he realizes just how much _joy_ is coursing through his veins. "Hey, Ally!" He laughs because he's relieved, because she can hear him again – because he's forgotten what he's done to her. He laughs and laughs, and he runs over to her, and then she turns around and it's like the hospital all over again.

She forces a smile that looks more like a grimace. "Hi," she chokes out. "I got a cochlear implant," she continues. "It helps me hear."

"Ally—" he says, but it's questioning now, uncertain.

"You forgot me," she interjects, because the tears are running now, and she might as well let him know what she's been going through. "You left me, because you only loved what I used to be. You totally ignored the fact that we were_ friends_," she mutters through her teeth, and now he's really frustrated. He feels utterly and completely misunderstood, because he had tried and tried and _tried_.

But when you try too hard to accomplish something, you usually fail.

:::

"Starting fresh," she mutters to herself. "Clean slate."

She straightens a little and plasters on the mildest of smiles before turning to face him.

"Hi, I'm Ally. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Austin. It's nice to meet you, too."

They shake hands, and he screams silently because they've just lost everything. But she's already masked her eyes with this unreal carelessness, and he can't see through it. He gives her a friendly grin, but both know it's fake.

When there's no time left, not even love can save you.

:::

They spend the next few months reliving everything and anything, because they're still young and they have time. But hearts are only broken once.

After that, emotional glue can only be temporary.

:::

_Because love is never perfect._

:::

**Wooooow. I don't know what to think. Ehhhh. Maybe, possibly, hopefully leave a review (especially if your name is Isabelle)? I'm looking forward to receiving feedback on this, because this is all **_**over**_** the place. Thanks for being so supportive of this **_**mess**_** of an author. ;-P**


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